


My Three Fathers

by justsimplymeagain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys never did have a normal growing up and never had a normal life as adults. And with their lives came more then one Father figure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam Winchester

Sam Winchester, youngest Winchester alive. Youngest son belonging to John Winchester and Mary Winchester. He was also the middle child at the end of the day, a young no longer alive and practically a boy Adam has taken the title of the youngest son. But Sam, Sam was still the youngest Winchester. He doubts that anyone would ever take that title away from him. Dean and himself probably would never know what it's like to be Fathers. Well, Dean had a taste but it didn't last long and that wasn't entirely something Sam wanted to dwell on. Guilt still ate at his insides. Guilt and pain, anger and sorrow. There really wasn't a comfortable middle grounds in the midst of it. 

There was however Dean, he held those hopeless choking emotions long enough for a smile and a laugh to peer through and for things to seem almost okay. Like they would be okay eventually. 

They were the only family either of them really have, and the only family they'll ever get to hold onto for long. Everyone else just dies on them. Or leaves or ceases to exist. 

Sam never knew his Mother but was told briefly by his grandfather from his mother's side during the time he worked with the man under Crowley's orders, Dean was a lot like her in some ways. And so was Sam in the wanting a normal life. Look how well that turned out. 

But fathers on the other hand. Sam could count on his one hand how many of those he's had. And it only came up to a shocking three. No there was no male on male loving involved. His family was too twisted into itself and their lives to really involve something like that. A sense of a stable relationship and so on and so forth. Needlessly said, Sam wasn't one to judge on things like that. He's seen inhuman horrors and everything in between, so he wouldn't spend a single second on something foolish like that. Not that he ever would, he fancied himself an open mind. 

His first Father figure was the original you could say. John Winchester, a tough no nonsense man who could glower away regular people who were too pushy for their own good. Now, Sam loved John he really did. Nothing and no one could tell him otherwise now, not even Lucifer in his taunts and pokes and probes. Not in the hallucinations that were now gone thanks to a certain angel Sam at one time called a friend who turned to being an enemy to being a saviour and a friend again. The guy didn't seem to be able to make up his mind. But that's okay. John Winchester was more of a drill sergeant at times, most of the time. When he wasn't he was a drunk or hunting. Sam never remembered a time when John wasn't a hunter, just a father and a husband. Dean does, Sam's sure of it. Now before he could go off and spewing out how his Father wasn't much of one or that he failed in some way, though Sam still thinks that he did. There was times when John the Father would peek out and come play with him. When he was younger and didn't know about the monsters at their door. Dean was there too, Dean was always there. 

John the Father would surprise them sometimes with a stop at a local swimming area between hunts or on a rare occurrence turn target practice into a game. Who could shoot the most cans gets a chocolate bar. Sam usually lost to his brothers unnatural ability to hit the target. John the Father would sneak him a bite anyway. 

Memories like that made him smile and his gut ache with wishful thinking. Sam doesn't remember a time when he wanted those days back so badly as he does when he's sitting on the hood of the Impala alone and trying to figure out how to save his brother. This time, this time he won't fail! Like he did when his brother was dragged to Hell, literally. 

At least they could still bring smiles to his face as he sorrowfully gripped a bottle of warming beer. 

If John was the only father figure in his life, Sam knew he would be lost. Truly lost because he would have focused more energy into being a rebellious brat then he has. And he knows he has, he was suited to being Lucifer's vessel for a reason. And not so much the demon blood as it was his very own nature. He and Lucifer were the same in that area. Lucifer obviously hated and detested the creation of humans and so rebelled against the idea of letting the little mud-monkeys live. Sam on the other hand detested the idea of being a hunter rather then having a normal life. So he rebelled every instance he got. The only difference was that Sam had a heart, Sam smartened up and put more important things in front of his own whining needs. Maybe when he's older or dead he could finally stop. 

But not yet. Not yet. 

Thankfully there was two other father figures to go along with his original. 

Bobby Singer, not what you'd expect when you first meet him. He's gruff and a no nonsense person much like John. But unlike John he had a lot of other underlining qualities and hurts that kept him, human. Sam didn't know too much about Bobby's past but understood that there was something that kept him from delving off into the deep end or getting too lost on a task at hand like John could. Time spent at Bobby's home was fun, there was books for him to read and cars forming an impossibly fun maze to play hide-n-seek in with Dean and at times Bobby (though Bobby was not one to admit it at times – instead saying he was only trying to get the boys in for dinner before they starve and usually with the iconic word idjit following the statement). 

Sam cracked a grin at that. Bobby was a good person, though not one to mess around with. He could go head to head with anyone and usually walk away from it relatively unharmed. He even nearly shot John on more then one occasion until finally chasing them off with a shotgun. Well, more like chasing John off and John taking Sam and Dean. Sam thinks that he might have seen sorrow in Bobby's eyes at them having to go. 

There's a part of him that thinks that at one time the idea of having children was a real possibility for Bobby if not for situations coming up and happening in his life. And he was left with Sam and his older brother. Hopefully that was good enough. And if Bobby saying that family doesn't stop at blood means that it was, the thought made Sam feel happy and wanted. 

He never addressed Bobby by any title befitting a Father figure, never even admitted it to the gruff older hunter. But that doesn't mean that Sam never felt that way no less. Hopefully Bobby new, somehow new how Sam felt about the man. 

And third and most unfair Father figure ever. 

His very own brother, Dean Winchester. 

It was unfair because that role wasn't one that his big brother shouldn't have had to fill. But somewhere between the fire and him running away to have a normal life, Dean took up that role. Sam frowned, he really didn't know when he really finally understood that fact. Maybe it was after he lost Dean the first time, or this time. Maybe it was this time, this time he wasn't forced to watch his brother brutally torn apart in front of him. This time he didn't have to hear the pained panic sounds that Dean couldn't stop even if he wanted to. 

But he realized that Dean wasn't just a big brother to him. He was a Father figure and a friend too. Maybe that was why it was so hard for them to let go of each other, why they circle around each other like moths to a flame doomed to keep at it even as their wings burn like Castiel's has. Dean took up every task of looking after Sam that a father should have done. Dean made sure he didn't go hungry. Dean made sure he was happy, even when Sam was being a spoiled brat about it. Yes Dean made mistakes, but he was only a boy who was stuck with a man's job. Who could blame him? Well, maybe John and Dean himself. But not Sam. The most important lessons when he was younger was taught to him by his big brother. Yes John taught him things too, but Sam felt that it was Dean who taught him the most important lessons. 

It really wasn't fair. After all, because Dean had to pull that role for Sam. Sam never really felt what it was like to just have a big brother who wasn't all about his little brother. A big brother who could divide his attention, who wouldn't have to sell his soul and didn't have the worlds weight on his shoulders since he was five. 

But then, would they be as close as they are now? 

Sam really couldn't answer that one and to be honest, the answer scared him worse then asking the question. It wasn't something that led down a path of sunshine and roses, that's for sure. 

Needlessly said, in the end Sam new that he had three Father figures who guided him and still is guiding him. There was no denying that. None at all. 

John Winchester his biological father, by blood and a few good memories. 

Bobby Singer his adopted father, who had more balls then most men that Sam met along the way. 

And least but not last, his big brother Dean Winchester the father he shouldn't have had to have. 

It just wasn't normal in the end, but Sam Winchester wasn't a normal person with the taint of demon blood and a hunters life. Not normal by a long shot. But he's fine with that, for the first time in his life he truly was fine with it. 

Now, he had some Leviathans to kill and a brother to save.


	2. Dean Winchester

Chapter 2 – Dean Winchester

Dean Winchester was a man, a soldier who constantly fought in a war he wasn't sure he wanted to fight in anymore after everything he has done. After everything he has seen and has had done to him. It wears him down. It would wear anyone down. He was a man who was also afraid of commitment because of one thing, his job. He could never leave it, and it could never leave him. Even in the regular 'apple pie' lifestyle it was there. In the newspaper, the internet, the news and in the back of his mind. It shadowed his thoughts and directed his attention even when he was passing the ball in the park with Ben back when he tried the whole civilized lifestyle out. 

Needlessly said, it didn't work out. And in time he'll be okay with that. But right now he didn't have time to dwell, he had to find a way out. And Castiel, his only friend was no where to be seen. Hasn't been since he arrived in this forsaken place. 

And Dean was alone, not that it was a new thing. He was left alone and left behind more times then he could count. By people important to him. Brothers, a Grandfather who was supposed to be dead and betrayed him and Father figures. Yes, Dean has had more then one of those. And a half-brother. 

In total, Dean had one grandfather that he remembers and not in a good light. 

Dean has two brothers, one he had since he was brought home and introduced to Dean. Sammy. His baby brother, and then there was Adam who he didn't know exist until much later. Someone who for the longest time was guarded from the Winchester lifestyle until that blood and that lifestyle swallowed the boy up and literally tore him apart. 

And Dean had a total of three father figures. Two he was proud to have, the third he was left divided and shamed for it. 

The first one, his legit Dad was none other then John Winchester. The one who started him out on this life, who put Sammy in his arms so long ago and passed responsibilities over to Dean that shouldn't have been. But Dean was proud to bare those responsibilities. Wore them on his sleeve with pride no matter the fact that pride was a sin. He could care less. John Winchester before the fire was your everyday American Dad. Dean didn't remember much about those days, the fire seemed to burn everything away. 

He remembered barbeques and laughter, sitting in a shopping cart with his Dad suggesting random objects to put into the cart while his Mom chastised them both playfully. But that memory was foggy at best. His most dearly held memory of his Dad came later on after the fire. It was a shooting practice, his Dad wasn't doing it entirely for fun. Dean had to be trained, raised to be a soldier. But it was still his fondest memory because of the pride his Dad outwardly felt for Dean that day, so clear that even Dean's young mind knew he did good. He hit every target. Straight on. 

Dean was a deadly shot, and a loyal soldier. Something Dad had no problem using, and Dean was fine with that. He just wasn't fine with the fact that Dad just like Sammy just left him. It hurt, it tore him apart and made him crumble next to the Impala until he got his head together and headed out for the next hunt which led to him wanting and needing to have someone by his side again, he didn't like being alone despite the whole lone wolf bullshit he had going. So he went and got Sammy and things got worse over the years, so very bad. 

And then his Dad died, saving Dean. Selling his soul. What kind of a Father would do that? A hero, that's who. And Dean firmly believed the man was just that. A hero. A flawed Father, but a hero all the same. Dean was proud to call him his Dad and to hold the name Winchester. 

John Winchester wasn't perfect, and Dean deep down knew he failed in some areas as a Father. But that was okay because Dean had another man in his life who picked up the torch on that regards. 

Robert Steven Singer, better known as Bobby. 

Bobby like John wasn't perfect, but he was exactly what was needed. Someone who picked Dean up and was a rock when Dean needed one. And boy did he need one, not only when Jo was dying but so many other times. And Dean in turn was willing and a few times even acted as a rock for the older gruff hunter. 

Bobby was the only one who really took Dean aside when he was a boy and taught him what it was like to do the simple things even when Dean insisted that he had to train and practice to make his old man proud. It was Bobby who pushed him to get his G.E.D and boy was Dean glad that he listened to the gruff old man about that. It both gave him a shot at a future in a life he'll never get, a slim shot but better then nothing. And it gave him an out so he didn't have to go through the cycle of new school every so often. Sammy hated switching schools, but Dean tried to make it as easy as he could. 

Not entirely fond that Sam would allow a kid to bully him just to be normal, but whatever. Bobby probably would have called them both 'Idjits' for that. 

Dean cracked a broken smile as he eyed his surroundings. Nothing here was friendly and everything here was neutral to everything. It was the players who were the dangerous ones. The forest was just a never ending forest always shrouded in night and cold and fog. The stuff good horror movies could be made of. 

Dean saw a few things that used to be ghosts here, guess when ghosts go through the whole salt 'n burn they end up here. Guess there's really no where else for something already dead to go when killed. Dean didn't see Bobby here yet, he was glad for that. Maybe someone upstairs took enough pity on the old hunter and snatched up his soul before it could end up here and become a monster like everything else here. 

Dean's heart clenched hard in his chest, forcing him to touch his chest gently. He missed Bobby more then he ever wanted to admit to. When the man died, a part of Dean died with him like it did with John and with Sammy despite Sam being brought back. It all took it's tole on him. 

Dean shifted as much as his he could. It was funny, in Purgatory he was still alive and he couldn't completely die either. It wasn't easy for him to explain to be honest. But it did leave him little time to really think, so he was glad that he couldn't dwell on things like Father figures, brothers and friends or more like friend. He didn't really have friends, if anything the angel he came here with who was currently missing in action was his only friend as sad as that sounded. It was true. 

“Ready for another round boy?” A tone that could fit a mobster in those old 'Godfather' movies sounded. Echoing in the cave he was holed up in. Well more like cornered. 

Enter the third father figure he hated to have. But played the part just as much as John Winchester and Bobby did only on different circumstances and in different situations. John and Bobby taught him to wield weapons to save others. This S.O.B taught him how to wield torture devices. 

“Alastair...” Dean greeted cockily, but his cockiness was empty. Memories flashed through his mind, trapping him in his spot as the demon as grotesque as he remembered him approached. 

Alastair was a mean son of a bitch, and he gave all the psychopaths on earth a run for their money. Hell he made the worse of the worse topside seem like Sunday morning preachers helping the poor and homeless compared to this guy. And despite every carve and taunt and flayed nerve, he played the part of good father far too well. When Dean did something good, by Alastairs standards he got a compliment and Alastair freely showed his pride in Dean. 

But Dean wouldn't and couldn't kid himself with who and what Alastair was. Dean hated him, burned with a cold fury at the sheer sight of him. Yet there was no denying who he played the part of in Dean's life. 

And when he was killed and sent here, Dean was left with divided feelings. He was glad, he was honestly glad that the bastard was dead. He wished that he could have been the one to do it and the one who saw it. He would have almost sold his soul to watch Sam kill him. Freaky powers or not. He would have loved the sight. 

But on the other hand a part of him burned with a silent rage directed at Sam for killing a man he spent the most time with. A demon! He spent forty years with the thing, so could you really blame him that a part of him felt a little lost when his constant companion who never left him for those forty years was now gone too? It was sick, it was what filled him with just as much shame and guilt as what Dean has done under Alastair's tutelage. 

Dean watched as the twisted flesh that bordered on flesh and smoke sneered at him with two white eyes glowing in sadistic glee. Behind him stood a smaller feminine demon with white eyes with a demon with yellow eyes. His three most hated demons, even more hated then Ruby and Meg. 

“Bring it on you son of a bitch!” Dean growled out. False bravado swelling up enough to help him survive another day. 

It was sick and it was funny how out of all three father figures, only one of them was there for Dean at this very moment when he needed someone the most. How he hated that it was Alastair though, but in the same breath at least he wasn't alone. 

It won't change one thing though. He'll get out of this forsaken place, with or without someones help. Hopefully if Cas's old man lets it be, he'll find a way to bring Castiel with him if he could ever find the fallen angel. 

And just like those thirty years in Hell, the only thing echoing out into a strangely quiet Purgatory was Dean's screams accompanied with the new laughter from demons with special tickets to watch the show. 

Dean swears he'll escape!


End file.
